The Ice Fortress (Frozen World Book 2) Read online

  “Tahan,” Scott said quietly, “this tension isn’t healthy. Most of the men should go home. Tell Ne Tarveg to give the order.”

  She gave him an incredulous look. “You think we should just turn back and go home?”

  “Not exactly, but standing here isn’t helpful. A fight might flare up any moment, and it would be very hard to keep things in control then. Let’s… let’s step back and consider what we should do. A small group can stay here and keep watch.”

  “I will remain,” Ne Tarveg said after Tahan spoke to him. “I’m not leaving these men unattended on our land, and you can say what you will, but I won’t shut an eye until they are gone.”

  Scott and Tahan retreated to Omrek’s house, where their children were kept under the watchful eye of their aunt. Tahan picked Niri up and sat cross-legged on the woven grass mat to nurse her. Egan was busy making an elaborate construction of ivory figurines. Scott was fiddling with the radio transmitter, half-hoping for and half-dreading a signal from McMurdo.

  “You heard anything from the station?” Omrek asked in a low voice. “Are they coming?”

  Tahan turned sharply in his direction. She was frowning. “Scott, don’t tell me you have called for help from the station! The elders won’t like this.”

  “The elders might not like many things,” Omrek countered. “We can’t banish those invaders on our own, not unless we are prepared to risk bloodshed. Maybe we should sneak up the path where all foreigners come from, Scott. If a helicopter lands, we want to have a word with the people before they come down.”

  Scott pressed a few buttons on the transmitter again. The signal was nonexistent, though his spare solar-charged batteries were supposed to be working. Finally, he looked at his brother-in-law and nodded. “Come on, but let’s sneak past the Russians. We don’t want them to think we’re up to anything strange.”

  Pechersky and his comrades were still busy unpacking when they got out of the house. Several tents were already erected, and the homey clunking of pots and pans could be heard from within, along with the voices of women, who sounded rather strained. A child cried and was hushed. Omrek frowned.

  “I suppose we’re doing the right thing, aren’t we?” he spoke quietly.

  “Unless you think the Anai ought to give these people their hospitality for an indefinite time.”

  Omrek looked troubled. “If these people are really going through a time of grief, it… it seems almost cruel to turn them away.”

  “The Antarctic Committee will take care of them. And Sergey Pechersky is not some vulnerable fragile flower. He’ll know how to promote his people’s interests.”

  They spoke a little freer once they started climbing up the trail and knew they’re out of earshot.

  “The Anai valley is so small,” Omrek mused. “So small and… limited. So beautiful, yet so fragile-balanced. At times this seems almost to suffocate me. I want to get out,” he spoke with unusual firmness, fixing Scott with a direct, bold stare. “Don’t mention this to Manari, though. I don’t know how she would react.”

  “You… you mean you’d like to go to McMurdo more often?”

  “That too. The base of the people from beyond the sea is fascinating. But there is so much more out there, isn’t that so? I want to see it all. I want to see the world. To sail the big boats and to fly above the ocean like you did before you came here.”

  Scott looked at Omrek, startled. No Anai had ever ventured beyond the shores of Antarctica – not since the First Anai had come here. Yet if someone were to do it, Omrek would be the natural choice.

  “You think Manari would object?”

  “I hope not. She knows me better than I know myself, I think. But would she approve?”

  Their conversation was cut short by the distant whirring of the helicopter up at the pad. “This must be from McMurdo,” Scott said, starting to climb up again. Because if it isn’t, God help us.

  Anders Lindholm climbed out, followed by Petri Karhu, Ray Douglas, one man Scott only knew by sight, and finally, Stanley the pilot. All men were armed, and their expressions were grim. “You did right by alerting us, Scott,” Lindholm said, clapping him on the shoulder. “This Pechersky is nothing but trouble. I knew it as soon as I saw him.”

  Petri tightened his grip on the gun. “Come on down,” he said. “Let’s take care of this.”

  “Are more people coming?” Scott asked.

  “Oh yes,” Douglas said grimly. “Pechersky will regret the moment when he decided to mess with the Antarctic Treaty.” He took another gun out of his belt and handed it to Scott. “You know how to shoot, I believe.”

  “Yes, though I’d rather not if I can help it. Come down the trail quietly. We don’t want to make a huge mess out of this whole thing.”

  The Russians worked very quickly and efficiently. By the time the McMurdo party came down, they saw that Pechersky’s campsite was completely surrounded by a fence of barbed wire, and people hurried to and fro within it, setting up tents and unpacking supplies. Three or four armed guards were prowling near the entrance, scowling in all directions, while the Anai warriors still milled at a little distance. The McMurdo men were able to advance pretty close without being seen, and Anders Lindholm’s voice cut through the air like a whip:

  “Stop right there, Pechersky, and get your men out of here! You are trespassing!”

  Pechersky barked a quick command in Russian, and several more of his men whipped out their weapons. “Don’t stand in our way. Leave us alone, and we’ll live here quietly without bothering anyone.”

  “You know the Antarctic Treaty cannot allow land piracy, Pechersky. The Russians ought to have learned this lesson by now. Now pack up all your stuff, go back to your station, and the whole matter won’t have to be brought up before the Antarctic Committee.”

  A hesitant expression appeared on Pechersky’s face.

  “You can’t fight us all,” Scott said. “I’m sorry for your predicament, Sergey, I really am, but this is not the solution. You tell your people to back off. We don’t want any bloodshed.”

  “Be ready,” Ne Tarveg gave a quick command in Anai. The warriors drew back the strings of their bows. Those who were not archers held their throwing-spears poised and ready to launch.

  Pechersky stood very straight. Scott approached him and looked him in the face. It wore a desperate, dangerous look. “No one listens to us. No one cares,” he said in a hard, flat voice. “No one cares,” he repeated.

  “Sergey, this isn’t…” Scott began, but didn’t have time to finish the phrase. Pechersky whipped out his gun and in a single, fluid motion, held it to his right temple.

  “Maybe this will at least make the UN take a second glance at the Mece people,” he said. His hand didn’t shake, and his face, while pale, was devoid of emotion.

  Scott felt the blood drain away from his face. “Sergey, don’t do this. Don’t be an idiot.”

  “Emotional blackmail won’t cut it, Pechersky,” Douglas called out, though he sounded shaken.

  “Someone has to listen to us. Someone has to. We can’t fight on our own,” Pechersky went on, pressing the gun more firmly into his temple. Scott did some very quick mental calculations and lunged at him across the wire fence, taking his arm in a tight grip and making it point upward. A gunshot reverberated through the air, Scott rolled on the ground on top of Pechersky, and hit his head on a rock. Bright whiteness flashed before his eyes, interspersed with red spots. The right side of his skull was throbbing badly.

  For a few seconds both of them just lay there, panting, breathing, and very aware of being alive. Someone had picked up Pechersky’s gun; someone helped them both up. Scott saw the Russians surrendering their weapons, talking quietly to the McMurdo party, collecting their belongings. The moment of danger had passed.

  The barbed wire had slashed through Scott’s tunic and trousers, and left deep gashes in his forearms and thighs. He thought with pain about all the time Tahan had put into making this outfit for him
. Now it was ruined.

  He tried to get away from the strong arm that supported him around the shoulders, but felt dizzy again and staggered back.

  “Careful there, Scott,” he heard Petri Karhu’s voice. “It’s alright. It’s going to be fine. I’d have been tempted to let Pechersky blow his brains out… but I guess it wouldn’t have been the smartest move, would it?”

  “Guess not,” Scott mumbled. Douglas and Stanley were confiscating the Russians’ weapons, while someone was checking for a radio signal to McMurdo. “I hope our troubles with these guys are over now. They must see they can’t do anything crazy around here.”

  Petri shrugged. “I wouldn’t bet on that.”

  Tahan came running forward, worry etched in every line of her face. “Scott! What happened? I heard a noise – did – did someone shoot?”

  “It’s alright,” he smoothed her hair back, “it’s fine. A pity the tunic got ruined…” he trailed off. The sudden drop of tension made his brain instantly turn into a mush.

  “Don’t be silly,” she almost laughed with relief. “But… are they going to go away quietly now? There won’t be any more trouble?”

  “Seems so. They will go back to their station.”

  “I’ve contacted McMurdo,” Douglas announced, walking over to Scott and clapping him on the shoulder. “We’ve alerted the hospital. You’re coming with us to get these cuts checked.”

  “There’s no need to,” Scott protested. “It’s nothing Tahan can’t handle.”

  “Don’t be ridiculous, Buck,” Anders Lindholm came closer, overhearing this. “It’s always better to be safe than sorry.”

  “Go with them, Scott,” Tahan said. “They are skillful healers. It won’t hurt to have them look at your wounds.”

  “I’m coming too, if there is room for me,” Ne Tarveg said, surprising everyone. Omrek’s eyebrows traveled up a notch.

  “You, Tarveg?”

  “Yes. I want to speak. There are people… important people at this foreign outpost, right? I want to look them in the eye and say that we want peace, but that next time we don’t hold back. Next one who tries to take our land from us, we kill them,” he finished with what was nearly a snarl.

  “Pete, Brandon, you stay here, alright?” Douglas said. “Keep these guys here secure. We’re taking Pechersky to McMurdo. Stan will come back for you later.”

  Chapter 15

  Pechersky followed them into the helicopter without question and sat down, his head bowed and his face hidden.

  “Maybe it would be better to handcuff him,” Lindholm suggested to Douglas in a low voice. “This fellow is unpredictable.”

  Douglas shook his head. “I’m afraid we don’t have the authority to do that.”

  Scott sat close to Pechersky. “It will work out, Sergey,” he said. “I’m going to do my best to try and help you. Anders and Ray will, too. They’re good guys, really. And once your people are properly registered…”

  Pechersky looked at him, and he trailed off. The look in the man’s eyes was cool, stubborn, unyielding.

  “You could have helped me by telling your wife to let us stay. That valley is a gift from God. If it saved the lives of the Anai thousands of years ago, it could save our lives today.”

  “No one is threatening your life or the life of your people – as long as you don’t come back to Russia.”

  Pechersky gave him a long, discomposing stare. “And what are we supposed to do, then? Siyanie has very limited funding. It’s a research station, not a settlement.”

  Scott fell silent and sidled closer to Lindholm. “Anders,” he said quietly, “do you suppose anything can be done for this… this group? I realize the case hasn’t been revised by the international community yet, but if they’re under threat, they might be wiped out or hidden away before anyone’s any the wiser.”

  Lindholm shrugged. “This is beyond my competence, Buck. Though I’m sure Ray will contact the right people, won’t you, Ray?”

  Douglas nodded. “If this is a humanitarian cause, we’ll do our best to promote it, even if it isn’t directly related to us. I’ll write some emails as soon as we get to McMurdo – but Pechersky will have to promise he won’t leave before we report this incident.”

  When they were about to land, however, Stan the pilot squinted down at the helicopter pad. “Isn’t that the Russians’ chopper? It’s odd that they should visit now.”

  Nobody answered. Scott had an ominous feeling about this. “Land as quickly and carefully as you can, Stan,” Lindholm said. Douglas did not contest this order.

  As the helicopter landed and they opened the door, Scott had the immediate impression that something is horribly wrong. There were sounds of people shouting and running at some distance across the station, and before any of them could say anything, a gunshot reverberated through the air.

  Scott’s hand darted to his gun and he gripped it in a firm hold. So did Lindholm and Douglas.

  “What’s going on?” Stan breathed out. “I’ll run ahead and check –“

  “You’ll do no such thing,” Lindholm said sharply. “Careful, now, let’s get ahead and see what’s happening. Just don’t run, and be prepared to duck at any moment.”

  “Why, what do you think…”

  “I’ll go first,” Scott said, and edged toward the nearest building, his gun poised and ready. The others followed.

  Another gunshot. There were panicky voices. Someone screamed, getting closer, until Scott recognized Annette’s voice. “No! No! Stop!”

  Without pausing to reconsider, he hastened forward, gun at the ready. Behind him, he heard Ray Douglas’s panting breath. Lindholm, whose years appeared to finally have caught up with him, leaned against a wall, clutching a stitch in his side. “Go on,” he gasped. “Go on, I have a gun, I’ll be fine.”

  Breaking into an open space between several buildings, Scott saw something bizarre: there was a group of people running, and these people were definitely not from McMurdo. A second glance confirmed that these were Russians from Siyanie. Two of them were carrying large crates between them, and they were evidently advancing in the direction of the helicopter pad. The other four were armed.

  “Stop!” Scott levelled his gun at them, and from the corner of his eye, he saw Ray Douglas do the same. “What are you doing? Stop right now!”

  Followed by several more McMurdo men, the Russians stopped, their faces desperate and hostile. One of them directed his gun at the crates. “You stop us, we shoot,” he said in a thick accent.

  “What’s this rubbish?” snapped Douglas.

  Annette Geels caught up with them, panting. She looked as if she was about to cry. “No! No, Scott, don’t provoke them! They have the hatchlings!”

  In the brief silent stalemate that followed, Scott heard faint, desperate scratching from inside the crates, followed by a strange noise that sounded like a hoarse cat. “The hatchlings?” he was confused. “Why… why would they –“

  “Do you have any idea how many people would be ready to pay a fortune to obtain them?” Annette edged toward the Russians, pushing her sweaty hair out of her face. “They must have been planning this for a while now… but oh, this could be a disaster – the hatchlings are small, they need care, they need to be with the people they are used to – please, please put them down!” she begged the leader of the Russian group, a burly fellow who was almost as wide as he was tall.

  “No,” he said flatly. “You let us go, or the creatures die. Move away. Now!” the last word came out in a snarl.

  “Move aside, Scott,” Douglas said quietly. “Let them go to their station. We’ll resolve this situation later. There are diplomatic means…”

  Scott gave him an incredulous look. “Are you serious, Ray? Whenever has Russia ever acted through diplomatic means? We lose them now, we never see them again. I’m not as crazy about these creatures as Annette, but I thought we both agreed this research matters.”

  There were footsteps behind them. These were
Omrek and Ne Tarveg, who caught up with them – their slowness was explained by the presence of Sergey Pechersky, who had the tip of Ne Tarveg’s flint knife pressed against his throat.

  “You put these things down, and I give you your man,” Ne Tarveg said loudly in Anai, but the Russians appeared to understand him very well. They exchanged nervous glances. Ne Tarveg gave Pechersky a rough shove.

  “Tell them,” he growled in English.

  Pechersky spoke to his men in Russian. There were a few uncertain glances, a few shakings of the head, and more than a few scowls. Then he looked at Ray Douglas, who was obviously uncertain as to what he should do.

  Scott stepped forward, his gun still held at the ready. “Let’s make the terms perfectly clear,” he said. “We let you and your men go back to your station, you leave the hatchlings, and never encroach on either Anai land or McMurdo territory ever again. Do we agree on that?”

  He exchanged a glance with Lindholm, who gave him a subtle nod. After a few tense moments, Pechersky finally nodded as well.

  Very slowly, the Russians set the crates down and took a step back. Annette, closely followed by Chris and Adam, rushed to her precious charges. Chris and Adam lifted one crate, and Ne Tarveg stepped forward and took the crate out of Annette’s hands, handling it as lightly as if it were stuffed with cotton wool.

  “Let’s all put down our guns, slowly,” Anders Lindholm said, giving the first example himself. The Russians followed suit, tucking the guns into their belts. I’d bet anything these weren’t sanctioned by the Antarctic Committee, Scott thought. He wasn’t about to press this point right now, however.

  “We’ll walk you to the helicopter pad,” he said, which he did, together with Lindholm and Douglas.

  Just as he was about to board the helicopter, Pechersky turned around and asked, “What about our people who are back in the valley?”